In Dreams
by Damion Starr
Summary: Sometimes, what you see isn't what's real. Rated for language and slight violence. JaNeil


1 In Dreams  
  
Author's Note: A strange little Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within fanfic. JaNeil. Please R and R  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the TSW characters. (Obviously, because if I did none of the Deep Eye's would've died.)  
  
  
  
Neil was on his knees, muscles in his body jerking spasmodically. Jane stared at him, horrified, with a gun in her hands.  
  
1.1 Five Minutes Earlier  
  
"Hey, Neil."  
  
"Hey, Jane."  
  
Neil jumped from the underside of the Black Boa. Jane watched as he walked over to his tool bench. "So, how's your headache?" He simply shrugged. "It hasn't gone away, but I'll live." Jane began to say something, but it became jumbled as pain shot through Neil's head. He clutched the edge of the bench and gritted his teeth. Suddenly, he felt himself grabbing a handgun. 'What am I doing?' He turned and pointed the gun at Jane's back. 'No!' Finally, he got control of his body. "No!" Jane turned at his outburst and gasped. One of his hands was pointing a gun at her, while the other was trying to push it away. "Jane!" He thrust the weapon at her. "Shoot me!" Then he dropped to his knees.  
  
"Neil?" Jane whispered. The gun shook in her hands. She prayed that he hadn't said what she thought. "A phantom is trying to take over my body! Shoot me! Kill it!" "No! Jane! It just wants you to kill me! Don't do it!" Jane was confused. Neil was infected? How? Why hadn't the scanners picked it up? "Neil…"  
  
"Jane, please. Kill this thing while you still can." Jane felt her hand wrap around the gun, finger on the trigger, and she began to aim at Neil. Then, when she realized what she was doing, she pulled her finger off the trigger and lowered the gun. "Jane," Her eyes locked on his. "please. Save everyone."  
  
"No! Jane! Don't!"  
  
She could tell who the real Neil was. The phantom gave Neil's eyes a fake, sympathetic look, while she remembered what his real eyes looked like. His real eyes had a genuine sorrow that years of battle and death left imprinted in the steel gray. Jane's heart fell. Neil really wanted her to shoot him. "Jane…" She lifted the gun, pointing it at his forehead. He gave her a woeful smile. "Bye, Jane." She dropped her aim and let instinct take over. Her finger wrapped around the trigger and she fired. Neil fell back. Jane dropped the gun and rushed to his side, the gunshot still resounding in the large hanger.  
  
"Someone help!"  
  
"Jane…"  
  
She smiled sadly at him. "I'm sorry, but I just couldn't do it. I'm sure the phantom is dead." He stared blankly at the ceiling, his hand over the wound in his stomach. "It's not dead yet." He whispered. "Jane, there's something I didn't tell you. The only reason you wounded the phantom is because it became a part of me."  
  
"Neil, I know…"  
  
He silenced her by placing a shaking hand on her lips. "But I also became dependant on the spirit." Jane's eyes widened in realization.  
  
"No…"  
  
"I knew that you wouldn't be able to shoot me if you knew."  
  
"Somebody help!"  
  
"Jane…" Neil cupped the side of her face in his hand. She looked down at him, tears forming in her eyes. "Thank you…" His hand slipped from her face and fell limply to the ground. His eyes closed and his lulled to the side. He was dead. "No…" Jane cradled his head, running her fingers through his hair and sobbing, hard. "No…"  
  
Jane stood in front of a tombstone. The land all around her was silent except for the rain that fell in steady precession. Her hair and clothes were plastered to her body, but she didn't notice. She kneeled closer to the marble monument and let her fingers graze the carved letters:  
  
1.1.1 Corporal Neil Fleming  
  
1.1.2 February 20, 2038 – December 7, 2065  
  
1.1.3 Devoted Soldier, Beloved Friend  
  
Jane lingered on the last word. 'Friend' She had always considered him a friend. 'Or something more.' The last thought startled her. Did she like Neil more than a friend? "Yes." The word escaped her lips before she could stop it. She clamped her hand over her mouth. What was she doing? She didn't love Neil! 'Yes you do.' She swallowed hard. What was happening to her? 'You love Neil.' I do not! Her mind was battling with her heart. Memories flooded her.  
  
His warm hand on her face…  
  
"Jane…"  
  
His sad gray eyes…  
  
"Shoot me!"  
  
His soft hair between her fingers…  
  
"Thank you…"  
  
His limp body in her arms…  
  
"No…"  
  
"I love you, Neil." The small sentence slipped between her lips before she realized it. Tears welled up in her eyes. "Not that it does me any good now." She leaned her forehead against the cold, slippery marble. "Why did you have to be so selfless?" Her tears began to fall like the rain. "Why didn't you think about me before you gave yourself up?" She looked at the sky, searching for an answer. "Why did you leave me?" she whispered.  
  
The pattering rain was her only answer.  
  
Jane stared up at her ceiling. Her sheets stuck to her legs with sweat. 'Every night. Why do I have to watch him die every night?' She flipped on her lamp and picked up the framed picture beside her bed. She smiled. The picture was from her birthday. Neil had shoved her face in her cake and, after she had chased him all over the place, she got him into a headlock while Ryan snapped a picture. A few days later Neil had given her the picture in a silver frame. "A late birthday gift." He had told her with a grin. She traced the inscription.  
  
I'll always be there for you.  
  
Neil  
  
Jane stood outside the door to Neil's apartment. How many nights had she stood there, thinking, no, praying, that it all really had been a dream, only to discover that he really was gone. How many nights had she felt her heart break again and again? Her fingers rested on the doorknob. 'Not enough, I guess.' She grabbed the knob and turned. The door swung open soundlessly. The apartment was dark except for the soft light from the barrier, which streamed through the wide windows. Jane's heart skipped a beat. There, silhouetted in the light, was Neil, perfectly alive. He turned towards her. "Jane?" She broke into a wide grin and ran towards him. "Neil!" She was about to embrace him when she passed through him. Suddenly, she was in the hanger again, with Neil dead in her arms.  
  
Jane bolted upright in her bed. She stared into the darkness for a moment, then buried her face in her hands. 'Not again. Why must I see that again?' Every night she'd seen his death over and over again. She shivered, remembering when she had passed through him. Goosebumps popped up on her arms. 'Damn. Why can't I move on?' Finally, she got up and headed for his apartment.  
  
She stood outside his door, her hand on the doorknob as she tried to work up the courage to open it. She took a deep breath and turned it. It was locked. She stared at it, confused, then hesitantly knocked on the door. "Coming." Her eyes widened. No, it couldn't be. Could it? The door swung open and Jane's jaw dropped. There was Neil, covered in grease and oil, but alive. "Hey Jane. What's up?" Jane carefully reached up and touched Neil's face, her eyes never leaving his. He was confused, but he remained still when she cupped his face in her hands. "Neil?" She whispered. Before he could react Jane threw her arms around his neck and pulled him close. Neil hesitated, then returned the embrace. "What's wrong, Jane?" He asked softly. She smiled through her silent tears of joy.  
  
"I had a bad dream."  
  
"It's alright now. Everything's gonna be okay."  
  
She hugged him tighter. "I know."  
  
It was just a dream. 


End file.
